


And Thomas Smiled

by islandgurrl1999



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: And fluffy confessions of love, Fluff, M/M, Nothing more than some cute hand holding, Sorry bout that all you Thomas/Brenda fans, Thomas doesn't really like Brenda, Yeah...it's way too late for me to be up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:50:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3420005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandgurrl1999/pseuds/islandgurrl1999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place after Blondie shoots Thomas in the shoulder. It's when he's laying in bed all hurt and junk, before WICKED comes in and saves the day! Anyway, this is just my interpretation of who was holding Thomas' hand that one time when he was all knocked out and stuff. Was it really Brenda? 0-o The world may never know XD</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the sucky summary. This is my first work posted on here, so I hope you guys like it!  
> Thomas: I hope you enjoy this story that includes characters and plots not owned by islandgurrl1999 in any way, shape, or form!  
> Newt: Yeah, because if she did own us, we'd be married, with a nice cottage in the Glade, and I'd somehow be pregnant.  
> Thomas:....Aw! You'd be so cute all swollen and pregnant!  
> Newt *blushing furiously*: You bloody shank! Come here!  
> *Chases him out of the room*  
> Me *watches fondly*: Dawh! Aren't they so cute together? Okay, now ENJOY! 
> 
>  
> 
> I'm a spaz.

_Someone held his hand. He tried to turn his head to look over, but it sent a fresh wave of agony shooting down his spine. He didn’t need to see. It was Brenda. Who else could it be? Plus, the hand was soft and small. Brenda for sure._

~.~

Thomas tried to move. He really did. But he couldn’t even open his eyes, let alone make some kind of gesture that he was still alive. He could feel his breathing, shallow, almost dangerously so, and his heartbeat was weak as it resonated in his ears. A dull pain shot from his shoulder and seemingly snaked its way up his neck, like it was creeping into his skull through his ear. Right on cue, he noticed, a ghost image of the shoulder pain bloomed in his brain. He tried to move and make it comfortable, but all he could do was twitch. That’s when the hand squeezed his and the pain was momentarily forgotten. A slender, soft hand was holding his left one. He panicked momentarily, but forced himself to squash the ridiculous notion that he would be “cheating” on Teresa if he let this person hold his hand. It was Brenda. He knew it was. Only she would have such soft, small hands, and only she would want to hold his in the first place.

 _Teresa would want to._ A part of him told him. _Well, whatever! It’s not like I can do anything about it in the first place._ He defended himself. Instantly, he felt foolish, knowing that he had been arguing with himself. He focused on the hand again, suddenly aware of how he was dipping in and out of consciousness. This spurred on his effort even more and he realized that the owner of the hand was talking. In a low, quiet voice, but talking nonetheless. He strained to hear it.

“I’m so worried…” “You…” “No one like you…” Only these snippets Thomas was able to catch, his foggy brain tried desperately to reach out to Brenda. He concentrated harder to focus on her voice, and, after a few tries, succeeded. Her voice sounded more husky than he last remembered, but _the Trial would do that to you_ , he thought bitterly. But what she said next made him cut it out and listen.

“You’re the only one I’m living for.”

He, in his mind’s eye at least, furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. What about Jorge? What about the cure? Why would Brenda say something like that?

“I...I think I may..be in love with you..”

The words almost made his heart stop beating out of terror. He tried to disengage his hand from his unwelcome admirer’s, but he still couldn’t move. Instead, he was forced to listen to Brenda’s confessions, each word making him more and more sad. How would he tell her that her love wasn’t returned?

“From the moment I first met you, and we talked about the gardens…”

Thomas almost started in confusion. He had never talked about gardens with Brenda...and yet, somehow, she seemed to think that they had. He listened more carefully, as she let out an almost bitter laugh.

“And now, here I sit, you wasting away. My hope, wasting away. The only one that I can remember ever loving, wasting away.”

The sheer beauty of the words, the almost poetic way she said it, almost made him love her back. Almost.

“I’ll try to get you through this. I promise.”

Thomas tried to smile, but he realized that he was slowly sinking into a deep sleep again. He struggled against it, but his efforts were in vain. He finally gave up and let the sleep start to take over him, somehow darkening the already black inside of his eyelids. But the last thing that Brenda said as he fell under sent that now-familiar jolt of confusion up his spine.

“I wish I had told you sooner. All those moments in the Map Vault I let slip by, and I wish I had told you sooner.”

~.~

The bag holding Thomas slowly lowered to the ground as the WICKED Berg pulled out. He gave a slight ‘oof’ of discomfort as he hit the ground, but it was nothing compared to the anxiety of seeing his friends again. The first thing Thomas saw when the bag opened was Newt’s smiling face. He breathed out a sigh of relief at the sight of the fluffy haired blonde. Newt had a look of relief on his face too, as he rocked back onto his heels and regarded Thomas with an almost affectionate look.

“Hey there, Tommy. Good to see you’re alive.” He chirped, and Thomas knew he would never get enough of that British accent.

“Hey there yourself, Newt. Same, no doubt.” He replied, sitting up so that he was eye level with his best friend. They sat there for a while, grinning at each other, and Thomas found himself lost in Newt's deep, almost amber eyes. It was like a blanket had fallen on them, smothering them with heat and foggy vision. Thomas blamed it on the shotgun. The moment was ruined anyways when Newt stood up and offered his hand to Thomas.

“Come on. I’m sure everyone else will want to see you too.” He said softly. Thomas grinned at him and accepted his help, grabbing onto Newt’s hand. Suddenly, the smile dropped off Thomas’ face and the snarky reply he was going to shoot in the other boys direction died in his throat. Newt must’ve noticed his face and the fact that he wasn’t getting up, because he had shifted to put himself directly in Thomas' line of vision. Thomas just stared at his friend, his mouth dry.

“Tommy? What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice filled with concern. But all Thomas could do was stare at their hands, interlocked in a familiarity that Thomas almost couldn’t comprehend.

“What is it? Did they do something to you?” But Newt’s voice was slowly fading into the background of Thomas’ mind. All he could do was focus on how soft and small the hand in his was.

And Thomas smiled.


	2. And Thomas Smiled Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically the same story, just in Newt's POV haha I didn't know what exactly to do with a sequel, so I just wrote it from Newt's perspective. Hopefully it doesn't suck! I'm sorry if it does! I love you all!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to write a sequel to the first chapter of this story cause someone requested it haha Hopefully it doesn't suck! I'm so sorry if this isn't what you guys had in mind for a sequel, if it's not, just tell me and I'll try again lol I hope you guys love it! <3<3

Newt looked down at the injured boy beneath him. Tears filled his amber eyes and he blinked them away furiously.

“Damn it, Tommy.” He whispered, his hands fidgeting nervously by his sides. Thomas made no move, save the slight rise and fall of his chest when he drew in his shallow breathes. Newt thanked the God above that he was still breathing, and he tried to avert his gaze from the bloodied sheet wrapped around Thomas’ shoulder. He stepped a little bit closer to the bed and took the opportunity to let his eyes wander slowly down Thomas’ body. He wouldn’t deny it, he’d felt an attraction to Thomas from the moment he came up in the Box. A red hot sensation that would burn the bottom of his stomach every time the other boy was near him. Now, the situation was no different and he felt the tears stinging his eyes once more. Choking back sobs he flung himself into a chair near the bed and grabbed Thomas’ hand. It was large and cold, and enveloped his perfectly. Newt turned it over so that Thomas’ palm was facing upward and traced his fingers, marvelling at how incredibly smooth they were even after everything they’d been through.

“There’s no one like you, Thomas.” He said in a low voice, curling the hurt boy’s fingers around his. “I’m so worried about you. That you won’t….” He paused, taking a deep breath. “That you won’t make it out of this one.”

No response from Thomas. Newt just sighed as he let his sad gaze drift over to the dirty, cracked window from which sunlight was pouring into the room.

How contradicting, he thought bitterly, as he unconsciously squeezed Thomas’ hand. The sun. So bright and beautiful, so much like Tommy. And yet it lives on while he lays here.

“You’re the only one I’m living for.” He found himself saying, and it surprised him. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was true. Sure, he loved Minho and Frypan and all the other Gladers, but he knew deep down that he wasn’t strong enough to live for anyone but Thomas. And now Thomas was dying. Newt wanted to wrap his Greenie around him, he wanted to bury his face in his neck, he wanted to love Thomas and he wanted Thomas to love him back. He let out a strangled whimper and his other hand gripped the side of the bed.

“I...I think I may...be in love with you.” He said, his voice almost a whisper, as he looked down through his tear laden eyelashes at Thomas. Still, the boy made no move, not even after Newt’s love confession. He sighed and intertwined their fingers, loving the way they fit perfectly together.

“It was definitely from the moment I first met you, and we talked about the gardens.” Newt smiled a little, falling back into nostalgic bliss. “You were pissed about something. Going off about how you weren’t just anyone that they could bloody push around. I was just too caught up trying to get your shirt to ride up that I didn’t even really notice.” Here, Newt let out a bitter laugh and his grip on Thomas’ hand tightened.

“And now here I sit, you wasting away. My hope, wasting away.” His voice rose. “The only one that I can remember ever loving, wasting away.”

Newt sat and let the words he had just spoken hang in the air around them for a little while. They were heavy and threatened to crush his heart, so he quickly spoke again.

“I’ll try to get you through this. I promise. Tommy, I can’t just bloody lose you…” He stopped and threaded his free hand through his golden hair.

“I just….I just wish…”

A tear finally fell from his eye, and snaked a slender, solitary trail down his cheek.

“I wish I had told you sooner. All those moments in the Map Vault I let slip by, and I wish I had told you sooner.”

Newt leaned down and pressed his lips to Thomas’ cheek, lingering just a little bit longer than necessary. He still smelled like the Glade, all pine trees and fresh grass, and Newt couldn’t get enough of it. But that was when the door burst open and his hand was wrenched from Thomas’ by the W.I.C.K.E.D. scientists. All Newt could feel was the emptiness; both in his heart and in his hand.

~.~

When Newt saw the Berg holding a body bag hovering near the building they were hiding in, he almost burst into tears out of relief. He flung open the door and ran outside to greet it, not even bothering to look both ways for Cranks. The body bag started to lower and Newt waited on the ground, eagerly, his eyes following its slow but steady descent. It hit the ground with little resistance and the Berg took off. Newt couldn’t have given it a care in the world, all his attention was focused on opening the bag before him. The first thing he saw when the bag opened was Thomas’ brown eyes, squinting against the sun. Huge amounts of relief filled him and he rocked back onto his heels, regarding Thomas with an affectionate look.

“Hey there, Tommy. Good to see you’re alive.” He said, his voice too eager and slightly higher than usual against his ears.

“Hey there yourself, Newt. Same, no doubt.” Thomas answered and Newt almost swooned at the sound of his voice. Low and slightly rough, it was perfect to him. The boy sat up and they locked eyes, Newt falling deep into Thomas’ dark eyes, heat rising in his cheeks. The longer he looked at him, the more Newt knew that he was going to lean in and kiss him. And he couldn’t let it happen. He kicked himself for being such a coward as he stood up and offered his hand down to Thomas.

“Come on. I’m sure everyone else will want to see you too.” He said softly, his heart breaking again. Thomas grinned up at him and grabbed his hand, and Newt smiled slightly into the familiar embrace. Their hands still knew each other. A couple minutes passed and all Newt could do was smile dazedly at their interlocked hands. A couple minutes was all it took for him to realize that their hands were still interlocked. It was only after a couple minutes that he noticed that the smile had dropped off Thomas’ face and he was staring at their hands too, a look of confusion on his perfect features.

“Tommy? What’s wrong?” He asked, fearing the worse. His fears were confirmed when Thomas didn’t answer, just kept staring at their hands. He moved down slightly, worry in his eyes.

“What is it? Did they do something to you?” Still no answer.

And then, Thomas, that bloody shank, smiled.


	3. Help!!

So sorry this isn't an update, guys! I'm just really struggling with the third chapter. I literally have seven rough drafts in my folder and I've hit a roadblock! I desperately need help on how to start this stupid thing haha Just leave a comment with ideas of what I can do and I'll keep trying! Sorry again! <3<3


	4. Final Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the world's WORST ending. :(( I am so so sorry it took me this long to update, but I could NOT think of a good idea for this chapter. I am so sorry this sucks major ASS guys :( hopefully it's not so bad you guys decide to riot and petition to get my account deleted haha sorry again!!

Newt nestled his head more comfortably into Thomas' shoulder, letting out a barely audible sigh. Thom as quirked his lips into a grin at the sound, and wrapped his arms around the blondes waist, pulling the other boy closer to him. Said boy hummed and let himself be pulled halfway into Thomas' lap. Ever since WICKED had fixed up his shoulder, he and Newt had been cuddling a lot more, he realized. He just chalked it up to Newt's protective streak, even though he was pretty sure it could be more. He knew he didn't have to be gentle with the Brit, but, holding his body like fragile glass, he wanted to. And he was 80 percent certain it had been Newt he heard that day, the one whose voice he replayed in his head over and over again. He risked a glance down at Newt, his eyes closed, a peaceful expression on his exquisite features. Feathery soft blonde hair covered his forehead, ruffling slightly when Newt would breathe out. His cute nose was slightly dotted with freckles you could only see at a close proximity. Thomas hoped he was the only one who had seen them. He had a soft yet still masculine jawline that led down into one of Thomas' favorite parts of him. Oh Lord, it was most perfect neck Thomas had ever seen, and it was right within touching distance. It was pale white and soft looking, making Thomas want to cover it in huge, purple and red bruises. He was contemplating how good teeth marks would look on Newt's collarbone, when the other boy stirred. His amber eyes slowly opened and he blinked up at Thomas. Thomas was struck by how gem like his eyes looked, encrusted by thick, dark lashes. A smile appeared on Newt's lips before he blushed a little, sitting up and modestly avoiding Thomas' eyes. 

"S-sorry about that, Tommy." He said, in a soft, sweet voice making Thomas positively melt. 

"That's perfectly fine, Newt." He reassured him, smiling back at him. "I actually kind of liked it."

Newt's eyes widened a little in pleasure and he blushed harder, looking away again. 

"Me..me too." 

 Thomas' smile grew bigger and he grabbed Newt's wrist with the intention of drawing him back in. But the movement made the air thick and foggy, much like the time when Thomas had first come back. Newt was looking up at him, eyes glazed, lips slightly parted. Thomas slid his hand down from his wrist to his hand and reconfirmed his suspicions from the day he had gotten back. Newt's hand was just as soft, just as warm, as he remembered. 

"Tommy, I..." Newt started, attempting to pull his hand away. Thomas tightened his grip, making Newt look away. Thomas put his fingertips on Newt's face, turning it to face him. 

"When I was hurt...I heard someone." Thomas watched Newt carefully, and sure enough, his blush deepened and his gaze dropped to Thomas' lips. 

"Yeah?" He asked nervously. 

"Yeah. And, uh, they said some things." 

When Newt didn't answer, Thomas continued. 

"They...said they loved me. Among other things, of course." Thomas paused to lick his lips. "I thought it was Brenda."

Newt's eyes snapped up to Thomas', his eyes flashing with pain and heartache. He ripped his hand away from Thomas' and folded it in his lap. Thomas instantly felt the emptiness and never wanted Newt or himself to feel it again. 

"But it wasn't her, was it?" Thomas said softly, brushing Newt's hair out of his widening eyes. "I...I love you too, Newt." The word "love" rolled off his tongue strangely, but he knew he meant it when he looked at the golden angel in front of him. 

"Tommy, I...I lo-" Newt was cut off by Thomas' lips covering his own, the sensation making his eyes roll back before closing completely. He returned the kiss, squeaking a little when Thomas pulled him into his lap.

"Um, what the hell? Do they realize they're at a strategy meeting?" Jorge's voice sounded in the distance, but both boys were caught up in their own world's. 

"Think they care?" Came Minho's voice. Thomas gave a small grumble in the back of his throat before pulling away from Newt's mouth to shoot glares at the other 3 occupants of the room. 

"Do you guys mind?" He stood up, Newt still locked around his hips.

Minho gave a mock bow before gesturing at the door. 

"Be our guest."

Brenda snorted a laugh at the death glare Minho received as the Thomas hitched Newt higher and moved toward the door. Before opening it, however, Thomas slid his hand down to Newt's with a small smile, a tribute to the action that brought them to this moment. 


End file.
